


The College Life of Dain Ironfoot

by beargirl1393



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Disabled Character, Dain has a prosthetic, Disability, F/M, Gen, Gypsy the guinea pig - Freeform, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, good Dain Ironfoot, past accident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beargirl1393/pseuds/beargirl1393
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dain is eager to go to college, get his degree and become a teacher, better than some he'd had. Loneliness drove him to the pet store, where he made a new friend. What he hadn't expected was that his new pet was only the first of the changes he would be going through at college. Add in a grumpy seat mate in his Monday morning class, cousins who simultaneously help him and live to terrorize him, and the typical family problems, and Dain's gearing up for an interesting year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Sparkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/gifts).



> Dain and Thranduil may be a little OOC, and if they are I apologize for that, it's my first time writing them. I got the idea for this from a post made by Blue_Sparkle over on tumblr, which can be found here: http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/137016479608/modern-au-d%C3%A1in-has-a-bunch-of-guinea-pigs-they#notes
> 
> Also, the name Vili for Dis' husband (or rather, boyfriend right now) comes from determamfidd and Saetha, as that has been my headcanon for his name thanks to them both for a long time now.
> 
> The title is going to change once I think of something better.

Dáin had known, early on, that moving out was going to be hard. He loved his parents, he loved his crazy cousins, and moving an hour away, regardless of how necessary and how good the scholarship was that he had gotten, was still a difficult decision for him to make. Ultimately, the thought of being able to visit on weekends, aside from Thorin who was off in another part of the country studying law, and the fact that family holidays would always involve packed houses and shenanigans, he was sure that he would be fine.

Then, of course, he got to his place, a room off campus as it was actually cheaper to pay the rent there than to pay the dorm fees. It was quiet, far too quiet, and empty. No Rosie waiting for him outside, waiting for him to take her food or for them to go on one of their long rambles, no father making ridiculous jokes and his mother simultaneously groaning and stifling snickers. No younger cousins coming over and creating a racket…quiet was not something he had much experience with in his louder-than-life family, and it was disconcerting to Dáin. Still, when he wrote his first letter home (as his parents were fairly old fashioned and enjoyed letters rather than only phone calls), he made no mention of his homesickness.

His mother, ever observant, told him to see about getting a pet.

On his first weekend, he decided to do just that. There was a pet store within easy walking distance of his campus, so Dáin didn’t think that it would be that difficult to find something for him. He had already talked to the building manager, and he wasn’t allowed to have cats, dogs, or any type of bird. As he tended to leave the birds to Thorin’s family, and he’d always preferred pigs to cats and dogs, it wasn’t a hard rule to abide by.

It was only after Dáin entered the pet store and started walking around that he realized that, barring what he couldn’t have, he didn’t know what to look for.

Turtles were the first things he encountered, but he wanted something a little more active, and that he would be able to pet. Snakes were vetoed for the same reason, as well as the fact that Frerin was terrified of snakes. He enjoyed teasing his cousin, but he didn’t want Frerin petrified of coming to visit him. Spiders and hermit crabs were the next pets he spied, but again, he couldn’t pet them or play with them, so he decided to keep searching.

He came across rabbits next, and actually thought he was getting closer to what he would want. Soft, could be cuddly, but he wasn’t sure about leaving them alone all day when he was in classes or working at his part-time job. Ferrets were in an enclosure beside the rabbits, and although he spent a few minutes watching them sleep or run around, he ultimately left them too. The little things were too energetic, and they were too destructive when bored for him to trust them out of a cage when he was home alone. Although, after passing up ferrets and deciding that goldfish and pretty much any other kind of fish belonged in the same category as spiders, hermit crabs, and turtles, he wasn’t sure what else there was in the store. Birds were out, because of his landlord, as were the dogs and cats (even though he still spent a few minutes petting each of them), and so he wandered through the stacks of pet food and habitats and tried to think of a good pet.

Noise drew him to the back corner of the store, wondering what was making that odd sound. It sounded almost like a squeak, but not quite, and he found himself in front of a cage full of…fur?

Tilting his head to the side, and watching as the little bundles of fur moved around, he recognized the guinea pigs after a moment, and that they were making the odd squeak sound. One of the sales personnel was standing near the cage, putting food in the multitude of little bowls, and he realized that strange squeak, or wheek, was the guinea pigs asking for food.

Dáin stayed back until the salesperson left, moving up to the enclosure afterwards. There seemed to be various breeds and colors in the enclosure, and they all seemed to have different personalities. His attention was grabbed by one with long ginger and white fur, the fur a similar color to his own hair and short beard. Growing it out took time, after all, although he had grand plans for how he was going to style it once it was long enough.

“Can I help you with something sir?” someone asked from behind him, startling Dáin. They seemed amused by his shock. “Were you interested in the guinea pigs?”

“Um…yes. The ginger one with the long fur there,” he admitted, pointing at the guinea pig in question. It seemed to be a little larger than the other ones with similar fur, and seemed to be fairly energetic. And stubborn, he mentally added, watching it nudge aside a guinea pig who tried to steal it’s food.

The salesperson, Grace according to the name tag, moved over to the cage and easily picked up the guinea pig in question, instructing Dáin for a moment before allowing him to hold it. It squirmed a little, apparently trying to decide the best position to lay, before relaxing completely in his hands, after an inquisitive sniff at his beard, of course.

“Is it male or female?” he asked, stroking the small animal with his thumb. It was so tiny compared to Rosie, who had taken the prize at the county fairs three years in a row.

Grace took the guinea pig back for a moment, pressing on it’s lower area for a few moments and completely confusing Dáin. “Female, I believe. It can be hard to tell, but I’ve had a few guinea pigs and I’m rather sure this is a female.”

Dáin nodded, willingly taking the guinea pig back once Grace offered to let him hold it again. She was a cute little thing, he admitted, and he thought it would be easy enough to take care of her even with school.

“What do guinea pigs need?” he asked absently. He had passed food and bedding, and he knew an enclosure was necessary as well, but beyond that he was entirely lost.

Less than a half-hour later, Dáin was leaving the pet store with a cage, to be assembled later, food, bedding, and a little box that make inquisitive noises every so often. Thorin would laugh himself sick, Dáin knew, but he didn’t care. He had Gypsy, and if she made noises like this all of the time, he would never have to worry about too much silence.

Now his only problem would be trying to smuggle her into his class on Monday, since he didn’t think he would want to leave her alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Dáin spent the rest of his Saturday setting up the guinea pig’s cage and teaching Gypsy to go to her cage when she was hungry or was going to make a mess. He had managed to house train Rosie in a matter of hours, so training a tiny guinea pig should be easier than training the large pig, at least in his opinion. Besides, it livened up his study breaks, and Dáin was enjoying just playing with his new pet.

Of course, right about the time he felt that he was on the verge of a breakthrough (Gypsy was more stubborn than Dáin had given her credit for), his phone rang. Assuming it was his parents, as they had promised to call every few days and had so far kept to that, he put Gypsy back in her cage and headed to retrieve his phone from his coat pocket.

It wasn’t his parents, surprisingly, but none other than his cousin.

“Now, what did I do to warrant a call from Princess Dís?” Dáin asked teasingly, leaning against his couch. “Shouldn’t you be building sculptures out of metal or showing Thorin up with how quickly you pass your law classes?”

Dís laughed, the sound reminding him of the small silver bells that would inevitably end up on the horses’ harnesses as soon as the first snow fell. “I should scold you for still using my nickname. I was four, Dáin, every four year old wants to be a princess.”

“I know I did, but I didn’t quite have the figure for your mother’s dress like you did,” Dáin replied, chuckling as he remembered Dís smuggling one of Frís’ nice dresses out of her closet so that she could play dress up and order them around. He had complied, enjoying being a knight greatly, but Thorin had preferred to be the king so that his little sister couldn’t boss him around.

Dís laughed again and Dáin smiled. Maybe taking a break from guinea pig training was for the best. “I did have a purpose behind calling you. I wanted to ask if you are going to go home next weekend. Your parents said that you said you stayed now because you wanted to get settled in.” Something she understood, as the first week was always a whirlwind, particularly in the first year. “Thorin is becoming entirely too serious, so we need to help him remember that laughing won’t break him.”

“And have you told any of them about your boyfriend?” Dáin asked, amused. He had only found out by chance, a last minute decision to visit his cousin at her college during his senior year when he had a snow day, finding her cuddling on the couch with a blonde man. Víli was a lovely man, a geology major, but he also knew that Dís was keeping her dating life a secret because her brothers tended to be overprotective. She wanted to ease Víli into their family, not throw him to the sharks.

“No, and you won’t either or you’ll regret it,” Dís replied, amusement coloring her tone as she added, “I think Mother and Father suspect something, perhaps Frerin as well, but Thorin is clueless. He still sees me as the chubby toddler who followed him everywhere and chewed on his hair.”

“You know, he is going to have to meet them sometime, if this is serious,” Dáin pointed out, although he smiled at the memory. Thorin might seem stern and strict, but he had always had a soft spot for children. He would make a good father, if he was given the chance. “Especially if you tell your mother and father, since Thráin will immediately invite him to dinner over the holidays.”

“Don’t remind me,” Dís groaned. “Poor Víli will have Mother, Father, Grandmother, and Grandfather all interrogating him, not to mention Thorin and Frerin. Mother and Frerin might go easy on him, but the rest will give him the third degree. Hopefully he’ll stick around even after being bombarded with questions about his intentions.”

“He’s mad about you, so of course he’ll stick around,” Dáin said, chuckling. That had been glaringly apparent even on the first time that he’d met the man, and he doubted that it had changed much since. “Regardless, I think we got off topic. Yes, I’ll be going home next weekend, and probably bringing a friend.”

“Did you meet someone?” Dís asked with interest. Dáin was an only child, but there was only a few months between Dís’ birth and his own, so they had often played together and he often thought of her as a sister. He was close to Thorin and Frerin too, of course, but there had always been a strong friendship between himself and Dís.

“No, I didn’t,” Dáin replied, chuckling. “And I’m not looking right now. I want to focus on settling in, rather than finding someone. Maybe later. No, I took my mother’s advice and got a pet. Her name is Gypsy, and I won’t tell you what she is, you’ll have to wait until next weekend.”

Of course, Dís tried to get him to tell. It would have been more effective in person, but she was devious when she wanted to be, but he held firm. Besides, he knew seeing Gypsy for the first time would get an honest laugh out of Thorin, since he had never had a pet that small before, and he wanted to see the reaction in purpose.

When he finally hung up with Dís, Dáin fetched his books and started to study again. He worked on training Gypsy on his breaks, and that was how he spent his weekend. Perhaps it was not as exciting as his younger self had expected from his first week at college, but he enjoyed it.

And on Monday, when he was getting dressed, he deliberately put on the hoodie that had been a present from a friend before he left for college, the large pocket perfect for storing things in. Like spare pencils, a calculator, or a small, adorable guinea pig. He only had one class on Mondays, as opposed to every other weekday when he had fairly long days, and he thought that Gypsy would be fine for the duration. Her training was doing tolerably well, apparently the salesperson in charge of the guinea pigs knew a lot about training them.

Besides, there was a seat in the back of the room beside a tall, blonde man that no one ever sat in. The man seemed totally self-absorbed, so no one would ever know the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it takes longer than this to litter box train a guinea pig, but for the sake of the story, we'll say that Gypsy is really bright and really, she only needed to behave for about an hour, two at the most, so it could work.


	3. Chapter 3

Thranduil arrived early at his first class of the day, settling into his usual seat in the back of the room and sipping his coffee as he looked around. It was quiet for now, most of the other students filing in were under-caffeinated or simply hadn’t had enough sleep and so were content to doze until the professor arrived. The others were looking over their work or talking to each other, although quietly enough that he was able to ignore them. He needed to be in this class, but that didn’t mean he had to like socializing this early in the morning. He was rarely sociable before noon, and the others had already recognized this during the previous week and so left him alone at his seat in the back.

Until today, apparently.

Thranduil glared at the red-haired man taking the seat near him. “Do you mind?” he asked icily. He preferred to sit alone, rather than be forced to socialize with others.

“No, I don’t,” was the blunt reply. “Although if you want to help me, you can move your large blonde head out of the way, you’re blocking the board.”

“You would have a perfectly fine view of the board if you were sitting near the front,” Thranduil replied, barely able to maintain civility when faced with such an obstinate person.

“And if I need advice on where to sit, you will be the first one I ask. Until then, bugger off,” Dáin replied, beginning to get annoyed with the blonde ponce beside him. Really, all he wanted to do was sit in the back of the class, he didn’t need this ponce starting trouble. It was too early for all that.

“You…” Thranduil started, but was cut off by the professor entering the room. He settled for glaring at the man beside him before turning to get out his book and preparing to take notes. He wasn’t going to allow this ruffian to distract him from his work, he had plans to be at the top of the Dean’s list and letting himself be distracted now wouldn’t be productive at all.

Dáin, for his part, scowled right back at the man beside him before getting out what he needed for class. There were some people who you couldn’t do anything with, and ignoring him would be for the best. The blonde ponce would get too much satisfaction out of arguing with him.

Even with both of them focusing on their class, they still managed to trade insults back and forth under their breath. No one sat near them, of course, and the professor was too far away to hear them (not that he would have done anything anyway, unless it devolved into a physical fight), and both found a measure of amusement in arguing with the stranger beside him.

For Thranduil, it was because he hadn’t met anyone with a quick wit who would trade insults back and forth like this, instead of getting upset and leaving.

For Dáin, it was just amusing, seeing what the blonde beside him would think up and working on his next comment while he waited.

Halfway through the class, when Thranduil was about to make a particularly good comment, he noticed that something was odd about the man (Dáin, going by the messy scrawl on the paper that was sticking out of his notebook). His pocket was moving. Not constantly, of course, nothing that anyone would notice if they weren’t sitting beside him, but he had definitely seen the pocket moving when both of the man’s hands were on his desk.

While he was still trying to figure out what was causing the man’s pocket to move, he heard an odd noise. It was rather muffled, but it was still like nothing he had ever heard before. He noticed a few others looking around, but none of them seemed to find the source of the noise either and they went back to taking notes. Dáin, Thranduil noticed, seemed unperturbed by the odd noise, but he put his hand in his pocket again. The noise quieted soon after that, leading Thranduil to assume that Dáin simply had an odd ringtone on his phone, he had heard much worse before, but that still offered no explanation for the movement.

That was why, once class was over, Thranduil followed Dáin out of the room. He had an hour before his next class, and while he planned to find a quiet corner and work on the homework that had just been assigned to them, thus leaving him with one less assignment when he went home tonight, he was entirely curious about Dáin and wanted to know if he was the cause of the odd noises and what was in that pocket.

Thranduil had his answer very quickly, for as soon as Dáin was outside, he took Gypsy from his pocket, holding the guinea pig carefully and chuckling softly. “Well, we did it. Don’t think I’ll be doing that again, you’ll have more fun running around at home while I’m sitting in lectures.” He still hadn’t been able to resist trying, wanting to know if anyone was observant enough to notice or if he had managed to fool them all. Since he hadn’t been sent out of the room by the professor, he thought his secret was safe. “Well, how did you like your first, and likely last, day of school, girl? Enjoy napping in my pocket, hm?” Dáin smiled at the happy noises he received as he started walking towards his truck. “Alright, your carry case is in there, with a nice snack. Let’s get back home so I can get started on this bloody paper and you can run around.”

Thranduil didn’t hear anything else, as Dáin had moved out of hearing range by that point, but he pondered over everything he had heard as he went to find a quiet corner to sit in while he worked on his assignment. One thing was for certain, this Dáin was an entirely different individual. Stubborn, clearly, but intelligent. Fairly sarcastic when pushed, as Thranduil himself had found out, but there wasn’t malicious intent in his words. A gruff man, who had handled that small guinea pig with more care than he would have thought possible. The man was a walking enigma, but Thranduil had always enjoyed a good puzzle. He had an entire semester to unravel it, and the thought made him smile faintly as he took his laptop from his bag. Perhaps it would be less of a chore than he had assumed attending this school would be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gives an insight into what some of Dain's family and friends are doing, I thought it would be good to show what some of the other characters are doing while Dain and Thranduil are bickering.

“So, have you decided what we’re doing for the holidays?” Víli asked. He was sitting on the couch, reading a chapter in one of his textbooks, as there was a test coming up and he wanted to ensure he had it all down. Some of the terms were very similar, after all. Dís was stretched out beside him, her back against his arm and her legs stretching across the rest of the couch. She had her laptop on her lap, and was putting the finishing touches on the paper she needed to finish.

“Mm, we could go to yours, but then my family would wonder where I am,” Dís said, amused. “While if I steal you, your family will know exactly where you are.” Víli had admitted two days ago that he had told his parents that they were dating. He understood why Dís was waiting, her family was close (and very protective apparently) and she didn’t want to share something like this over the phone. He accepted it and didn’t push, since he knew that Dís would introduce him to them when she thought the time was right. Or when getting caught cuddling on the couch by her younger cousin.

“And your cousin wouldn’t have to lie for you anymore,” Víli pointed out. He knew that Dáin helped where he could, and was amused by the secret keeping but also wouldn’t tell anyone until Dís said he could. He was loyal to his cousins, and Dís seemed to be the favorite, in Víli’s opinion. Not that he could blame Dáin, he was in complete agreement, but that could be because he was biased.

“Mm, although I think Dáin likes being the only one for now, it means he’s the only one who can tease me,” Dís pointed out, smiling. “But, back to the point. If I introduce you to my family at any point, they are going to want you to come home for the holidays. All of them will be there, after all, and it will be a good way to get all of the introductions out of the way at once.” Something that would be for the best, as if one part of the family got to meet Víli before the others (particularly before her grandmother and grandfather), then there would be hell to pay, to not put too fine a point on it. Her grandmother was very proper, after all.

“So, we’ll spend the holidays with your family this year, and spend them with mine next year?” Víli offered. The celebrations that his family put on wouldn’t be anything as grand as what Dís’ family did, but he knew that his parents would love to have them, even if they would understand him visiting Dís’ family this year.

“And we can go and visit them before or after the holidays, before we go back to school or right after the semester ends,” Dís offered. It seemed to be a good idea, in her opinion, and the best way to combine both of their traditions. “Maybe one year we can even get both families together. The more the merrier, and it’s not like my family’s celebrations can get any crazier.” Víli chuckled at that, but agreed.

Silence fell for a time after that, while Víli studied and Dís finished her paper and looked over it, doing a bit of editing before printing it out. And, if after the studying and writing was done, they took advantage of their break, well…at least there was no worry of anyone walking in on them this time.

* * *

 

Frerin, meanwhile, was sitting in the library on campus, textbook open and calculator in easy reach as he worked on his math homework. He was studying to be a psychiatrist, most likely a child psychiatrist as he wanted to try to help children and he had always been rather empathetic. It was a lot of schooling, but he had always done well in school and wasn’t afraid of the extra work.

Admittedly, he could have gone back to his apartment once class was over, as it was quieter there than in the library sometimes and he would be able to have something to eat or drink if he wanted it, but there were perks to studying in the library.

And one of them had just walked in, wearing his usual read coat and carrying a leather bag.

Frerin didn’t know much about the man, if he was being honest, only what he had gathered from observing him. The man’s name was Bilbo Baggins, he had heard one of the librarians say it when he was behind the man in line to check out a book he needed for a paper he’d needed to write. Bilbo seemed to be very punctual, Frerin was quite sure that you could set a clock by him, and seemed completely at home in the stacks of books. He was very studious, and seemed to be only a year or two older than himself. And, something that he had noticed the first time he had laid eyes on Bilbo Baggins and that he had continued to notice each time he saw the man, was that Bilbo was a very handsome man.

Frerin had noticed, and had subsequently been ‘mooning’ (Thorin’s words, when he’d spoken of Bilbo once) over the man since then. He had considered approaching the other man several times, they even had a few classes together so it wasn’t as though he had no opportunity to see Bilbo, but he’d never done it. He wasn’t as outgoing as his siblings were; he was quieter, more reserved. He tended to be the mediator when Dís and Thorin would butt heads. Still, at the moment he would have given anything to be like either of his siblings, so that he could go up to the strange, attractive man and ask him…

“Would you like to go out for coffee?” a voice asked from beside the table, and Frerin started, knocking his calculator onto the floor as he stared at Bilbo Baggins, who was grinning sheepishly, but with a hint of mischief still in his expression. “Sorry, I’ve been told that I should wear a bell.”

“Yeah, I…honestly, I didn’t hear you coming over,” Frerin admitted, bending to pick up the calculator before someone walked past and stepped on it. It also gave him an excuse to look away from Bilbo, so his faint blush wasn’t noticeable.

“So, would you like to go out for coffee?” Bilbo asked, smiling. He had noticed Frerin, and he thought the other man seemed nice. He’d heard that Frerin volunteered at an animal shelter once a week, regardless of what his schedule was like, among other things. For someone so quiet, there were no end of people to sing his praises. And he couldn’t deny that Frerin was handsome. So, after a few days of waiting to see if the younger man would make the first move, since he’d noticed the frequent glances, Bilbo had decided to take things into his own hands and just ask Frerin out himself.

“I…” Frerin said, fussing with the calculator just for something to do with his hands. He didn’t do well when put on the spot sometimes, but this was something he wanted, so after a moment he smiled and nodded. “Yes, thank you. What time works for you?”

They settled on Friday, as their afternoon classes ended at the same time that day, and Frerin was especially cheerful when he went home that day. He had the added bonus, during his weekly phone call with Thorin, of hearing his brother choke on his drink when he’d admitted that Bilbo had asked him out and he accepted.


	5. Chapter 5

In the next week, Dáin spent every free moment when he wasn’t working, studying, or in class focusing on training Gypsy. He didn’t like keeping her in her cage, but he also didn’t like the thought of guinea pig mess all over his carpet. No matter how many times he scrubbed, he still wouldn’t like it, especially since he was only renting the place. So, he threw all of his focus on training Gypsy when he wasn’t busy, and it paid off. The guinea pig was completely litter box trained, and now he was left with the task of Gypsy-proofing his home.

He would ensure that she couldn’t get out the front door, of course, but he was also making sure that all the cabinets were closed, putting blocks in front of the edges of the television stand and the coffee table. He closed his bedroom door and the door to the kitchen, and planned to stop at the store on the way home to pick up one of those baby gates, to keep Gypsy out of the kitchen until he had time to Gypsy-proof in there. Eventually, he wanted to be able to let her roam around the apartment at will, but for now he had to keep her in the living room, to keep her safe.

Looking around one last time, Dáin nodded to himself, saying goodbye to Gypsy, who was contently eating, before leaving for work. He had a part-time job at the café near campus, and it was enough to pay for his rent and food, since his books and tuition were covered by the scholarship. He had to keep his grades up, but he wasn’t having a problem with that yet. He’d never been the best student, but he was smart and he was determined to get the best grades he could.

Shrugging into his coat as he walked out the door, Dáin walked the short distance to the café, hanging up his coat and grabbing the apron that he was required to wear, putting it on with a grimace. Yellow wasn’t his color, but he put it on, pulling back his long hair with a tie. He didn’t need to wear a hair net, thankfully, he didn’t want to look like a lunch lady, but he kept his hair back both to keep it out of the way and to ensure nothing got into the customers’ drinks or pastries.

His boss was a good woman, working with him to make sure he wasn’t scheduled for work when he needed to be in class, and often sending a few of the pastries that didn’t sell that day home with him. They made good snacks for during his study breaks, or for a quick bite to eat if he was running late and couldn’t manage breakfast. The work was hardly difficult, making drinks and being charming even if he felt like shouting at some of the rude people who came in, and he quickly took his place behind the counter just as his shift started.

The shift passed about as well as he expected, with a mix of good customers and bad ones, and a fair few who tipped well which was nice. Not every day was like that, there were days when he and the others barely made any tips, but the good days were always nice.

Dáin was nearly done with his shift, only an hour left before he could leave and go look for a baby gate to keep his guinea pig out of his kitchen, when the door to the café opened and in strolled a very familiar blonde man.

He could tell that Thranduil hadn’t sought him out, the man seemed stunned to see him there, making various coffees and teas and fetching pastries from the case, and that made Dáin feel a bit better. At least he wasn’t the only one caught off-guard by catching his sometimes-rival outside of school. They’d continued their bantering since that day, and they had several opportunities as they had quite a few classes together. They had never interacted outside of class, however, and it was clear that Thranduil wasn’t sure what the rules were for this scenario.

“Did you come here for coffee, or just to admire the view?” Dáin asked dryly, folding his arms on the counter once he’d given his last customer their coffee. Thankfully there was a bit of a lull, everyone caffeinated and no one was coming in from outside just yet, so he had a few minutes.

That comment seemed to shake Thranduil from whatever thoughts he’d been drawn into, however, and he gave Dáin one of those inscrutable looks (the ones that could as easily mean ‘you amuse me’ as it could mean ‘I want to murder you slowly’). In this case, he was leaning towards the former.

“Tea, actually,” Thranduil replied. “If you can make it sufficiently.” Dáin seemed to be the type who favored coffee over tea, so he wasn’t entirely sure how good the tea would be. Besides, if he had learned anything about Dáin in the past few days, it was that he enjoyed proving others wrong about him.

Dáin rolled his eyes and made Thranduil’s tea to his specifications, setting it on the counter with exaggerated gentleness. “Anything else, or will you not condescend to get something to eat from a place like this, your majesty?”

Thranduil actually smirked at that, accepting his tea and paying. “Your highness is also acceptable,” he said loftily, rather than answer. “And I have already eaten. Perhaps the rodent you enjoy hiding in your pockets would want one?”

Dáin shot Thranduil a look, he didn’t need anyone thinking they had rats. “Gypsy came to school once over a week ago, most people would have let it go by now. And she’s not here, she’s at home, waiting for me to go purchase a baby gate after work.”

“You need a baby gate for a hamster?” Thranduil asked, entirely nonplussed. Didn’t the animal have a cage?

“Guinea pig,” Dáin corrected, shooing Thranduil aside so that he could take a new customer’s order, re-focusing on Thranduil once he was done. “And yes, I’m buying a baby gate for her. She’s going to have free run of the living room, now that she’s been housetrained, but I don’t want her in the kitchen until I can make it safe.” And, unlike his bedroom and the bathroom, there was no door to the kitchen, it was just the open archway.

Thranduil gave him another of those looks, and Dáin only barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Mahal forbid the man make any sort of sense, instead of just staring at people.

“You are a singularly odd, yet interesting individual,” Thranduil said eventually, turning on heel and walking out of the café, leaving Dáin sputtering behind him. Even after thinking about it for the rest of his shift and the entirety of his walk home, he still didn’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult.

And, he still wasn’t sure whether he wanted to strangle the blonde or find out more about him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that focuses on some of the background characters, this time Balin, Dori, Bofur, and Bifur.

Balin finished his shopping, and with a small smile headed to his last stop. Granted, he could buy tea anywhere, and he was quite proficient in making it, but stopping in the Ri’s Teashop once a week was an indulgence, one of the few he had. Dwalin had continued to mock his infatuation with the man who ran the shop, Dori Rison, but Balin had long since grown immune to his brother’s teasing, and thus bored Dwalin as he wouldn’t tease unless he was able to get a reaction. But, that was neither here nor there at the moment, Balin acknowledged, hearing the bells tinkle as he stepped into the shop.

It was small, but comfortable, and clearly much work went into keeping it in good condition. Dori ran the shop himself, for the most part, as his mother wasn’t in the best health at present. That much he had gathered, but he refused to pry. Dori was an intensely private man, and wouldn’t welcome intrusions into his personal life. They sold a variety of loose leaf teas, but they also made beverages and baked goods, and thus there were several comfortable tables and chairs for customers to sit in.

“Mr. Fundinson, on time as always,” Dori said, smiling when he saw one of his regulars come in. The man was around the same age as he was, nearly finished with law school, and always came in once a week to buy tea (for a family friend, he said, as it was difficult for them to get decent tea in their area) as well as ordering a cup of tea to drink there. He also usually would work in some sort of flirting, and while Dori rarely replied to it, he enjoyed it. Balin was a handsome man, and he was very intelligent. Their discussions were always enjoyable, and although he would deny it vehemently if asked, the day that Balin would come to the tea shop was one of the highlights of his life.

“Mr. Rison, it is a pleasure to see you again,” Balin said, smiling charmingly. Dori was a fine man, intelligent and kind, but he wouldn’t take any bull from anyone. The man did have a tendency to fuss, of course, but he didn’t mind. He thought it was fairly adorable, if he was honest. He was interested in Dori, he had never made a secret of that, but for now he stuck to just casual flirting. Dori was extremely busy, as his mother was ill and his brother was rarely around, not to mention that the man ran the tea shop mostly by himself. It was a lot for one man to handle, and Balin didn’t want to put more pressure on him. He was fairly busy as well, of course, finishing up school and looking after Dwalin when his brother got into a scrape, which was thankfully much rarer now that he was training to be an officer, so with their respective time commitments, it was better if they didn’t date now. Still, he could indulge himself once a week and visit Dori.

“Are you having your usual, or are you ready to experiment?” Dori asked, returning the smile. He knew that Balin was interested in him, and he returned that interest, but he was grateful that the other man didn’t push him for anything at present. Casual flirting once a week when Balin came in for tea was one thing, but he didn’t have the time or the energy for a serious relationship at the moment, and he was very grateful that Balin understood that so well, likely because of his own busy schedule.

Still, once Balin had several tins of loose-leaf tea (one for his personal stock, the others being sent to Thorin’s mother and grandmother, who loved good tea but didn’t have anywhere in their town to get it) and was settled in one of the chairs with a cup of tea, Dori would always take a break and join him, getting his own cup of chamomile tea and relaxing while he and Balin talked about whatever they felt like. And, if either of them occasionally wished for more…well, it would make it all the sweeter once they were both free.

* * *

 

Bifur finished sewing a dress for a doll, stretching and looking around his store. He had been a miner, until he was injured in an accident. He received a settlement after the accident, and decided to use it to open his own toy shop rather than risking himself in the mines again. More than likely, he wouldn’t have been accepted back regardless, as he had been in the hospital for months after the accident, as he had slipped into a coma. He still had a large scar on his forehead from the accident as well as the treatment, but he had difficulty speaking. He had learned sign language, as had his family, and he was happier where he was than he had been in the mines.

Also, it gave his younger cousin, Bofur, something to do. At the moment, the lad was undecided about what he wanted to do with his life. Bifur had taught him several things, Bofur had a knack for toy making, and occasionally Bofur would take a class at the community college, if they had an interesting class and he had enough money put back. His most recent class had just finished, actually, and it had led to a new design idea for the store.

“Those horses are flying off the shelves, we’re going to be out of stock by closing tonight,” Bofur said, popping up beside Bifur when he was lost in his thoughts.

The horses in question had been Bofur’s idea, painting constellations on the hides of several of their toy horses. Said horses had been selling well since then, they were going to need to start having people place orders on them since they never seemed to have enough on the shelf to beat the rush.

“The dolls are doing well too,” Bofur added, smiling. He was proud of that idea too, having several of their ordinary cloth dolls, which weren’t as big of a seller as some of their other toys, dressed in clothes reflecting different zodiac signs. Bifur had just finished a pretty purple dress covered with scales for a Libra doll, and once he dressed the doll in the outfit, he handed it to the young boy in front of the counter. The boy grinned, holding the doll close while his mother paid Bofur before the two left.

“She would have come back tomorrow, you didn’t have to do that,” Bofur murmured.

‘He wanted it today,’ Bifur signed, and that was the end of that. He didn’t like turning children away if he could help it, not because of the money but because they always were so upset. And there was always a guarantee that their parents might not be able to bring them back when they promised. He didn’t like disappointing people, especially not children.

“So, I was thinking, once the big rush around the zodiac dolls and constellation horses goes down, what about making a few dragon toys that are light enough to actually fly?” Bofur asked, changing the subject rather than commenting. Bifur had always been like that, and it was one of the reasons Bofur loved him. Still, neither of them were the soppy kind so he left it at that, talking about what materials they would need to make Bofur’s dragons, and what color they should be.


	7. Chapter 7

Another week passed, and Thranduil found himself in the library, unusually crowded as several students had apparently neglected important projects until the last minute and thus were panicking and trying to do everything now. After the tenth time he was interrupted in his work by someone he rarely spoke to in class, let alone out of it, and he’d been jostled by people passing his table (not to mention people seemingly ignoring the fact that his table was littered with his work and yes, he needed this much space and no, he was not sharing a table with you), he was done.

He gathered up his things neatly, slipping everything back into his leather shoulder bag and standing to leave. His eye was caught by a flash of yellow and black, however, and he turned in the direction of it, seeing Dáin gathering his own things and standing to go. His coat was already on, and the flash of yellow and black was the hat he had just put on his head. Without conscious thought, he made his way over to Dáin and said, “Hufflepuff? Honestly?” For a moment, he worried that the man wouldn’t catch the reference, but the flash of indignation he got reassured him.

“Hufflepuff is a fine house,” Dáin grumbled, slinging his bag over his shoulder. It was leather as well, but comfortably worn as it had belonged to his mother before she gave it to him. “Hard-working, loyal, dedicated, patient, fair…Might not be as fancy as saying ‘Oh, we’ll only take you if you’re smart, or brave, or cunning’, but it’s a sight better, in my opinion. What are you then, Gryffindor?” He knew there was absolutely no possibility of that, but the instant distaste the word produced in Thranduil was more than worth it.

“Hardly,” Thranduil drawled, tapping the small pin that was on the strap of his bag, the green and silver coloring as well as the coiled snake making it extremely evident which House he preferred. “Slytherin is where I have chosen to make my true friends. Rather than lowering myself to deal with know-it-alls who value books over all else and idiots who are all brawn and no brain.”

“Each House has their good traits and their negative ones,” Dáin said loyally. “I’ve always thought my cousin would be a Gryffindor.” Thorin definitely would be, but he thought Frerin would be with him in Hufflepuff. Dís, he was never sure about, she could have made herself at home in any of the four Houses. “You like Harry Potter? Figured you would be reading Macbeth while drinking white wine on your throne somewhere.”

Thranduil snorted, shaking his head. “While that is a lovely image, and the classics are classic for a reason, I do have a fondness for the Harry Potter series. It is a rather well-kept secret, however.” His father knew, but then again Oropher had been the one to give Thranduil the first book, having heard from an associate that they were good for children and giving it to a much younger Thranduil. They had read a few chapters every night, and it remained one of his best memories of his father.

Dáin had gotten into the series because of his family as well. When his mother was on tour, one of the others in her unit loaned her their copy of the first book when she needed something new to read. When she had gotten home on leave, she had bought the first book and read a few chapters to her son every night that she was home. When her leave was over, she’d gifted him with a copy of the second book and told him that he should be ready to be quizzed when she next spoke to him. Maybe it was that kind memory that prompted him to say, “Do you want to come to mine to study? We can put on one of the movies as background noise, snark about the movie while we’re working.”

Thranduil actually froze for a moment, and Dáin took the opportunity to revel in the fact that he’d thrown Thranduil off-balance, something that very rarely happened. The man recovered after a few moments, however, and nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind. Company is tolerable, but the level of noise in here is irritating.”

Dáin nodded, that was why he was leaving the library in the first place, after all. “Come on then. Watch your step when we get there, Gypsy likes to try to escape.”

“Gypsy?” Thranduil asked, wondering if that was the guinea pig he had brought into class. He vaguely recalled hearing Dáin mention the name before. Still, he received no answer from Dáin, who simply laughed and led him from the library.

* * *

 

“She is surprisingly quick, given that she has such tiny legs,” Thranduil commented, looking at the small animal in Dáin’s hands. The guinea pig had made a break for it when Dáin opened the room, but he’d been prepared and simply scooped her up and carried her back inside.

“Mm, I’m going to buy another one of those baby gates, to put in the front doorway,” Dáin replied, setting Gypsy back on the floor once Thranduil had closed the door behind them. “One of these times she’ll get past me, and I don’t want her to get lost in here. Also, I’m pretty sure that one of the people who are living here owns a cat, even if the landlord doesn’t allow them, and I don’t want her to be hurt.”

Thranduil nodded, accepting that. He and Dáin settled on the couch, spreading their papers out on his coffee table. Dáin got drinks for them both, filling up Gypsy’s dishes as well, and by mutual agreement they decided to start with the first movie.

Thranduil was amused to notice that Gypsy made Dáin pick her up and put her on the couch purely so she could nap in his lap. Dáin seemed perfectly at ease working around her, however, so he said nothing and merely got started on his own assignments.

They both enjoyed themselves immensely, quoting their favorite lines and discussing which parts were better in the book versus the movie, or vice versa. Gypsy roamed at will, sometimes dozing on her owner’s lap, sometimes wandering over to Thranduil to be petted, and at others squeaking (at least that was what it sounded like to him) until she was put down and roaming around the living room. Neither commented on it later, but their bickering was more playful than hurtful after that, and movie nights while studying turned into a regular thing for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a problem with any of the Houses (although Slytherin and Hufflepuff are my favorites), but the banter was necessary for the story.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to fit Fili in, he's one of my favorites, so...

“It could be worse,” Víli offered, trying to break the silence. Today was the first day of their break, they wouldn’t need to be back until after New Year’s, and they should be packing to get ready to go to visit Dís’ family. Instead, he’d come back from talking to his advisor to find Dís staring at the coffee table. More importantly, the pregnancy test that was set on top of its box on the coffee table. The positive pregnancy test. “We could not have found out until after we were already visiting your relatives. Then your brothers would have killed me before I found out whether the test was positive or negative.”

Dís snorted but didn’t contradict him. Neither of her brothers would want to think about her having sex, but they would cheerfully threaten Víli about what would happen if he didn’t treat her well. Finding out about the baby would just make the threats worse. “Do you really think we can do this? Tell me honestly.” They had spent the past two hours since Víli had gotten back talking about it, before lapsing into silence, and she needed the reassurance. On the one hand, it was a good thing and she was excited about having a child. She loved Víli, and their little son or daughter would be adorable. On the other hand, they were both still in college, and she wasn’t sure how they would balance their various commitments.

“If you want this, I think we will be able to manage,” Víli said honestly. He had always been good with children, and had thought, once or twice, about what any children he and Dís had would be like. If she didn’t want to do this, or simply didn’t want to do this now, he’d help her, but as things stood…”You can finish this year, and skip the summer semester so that you’ll have time to heal once the baby is born. And you can go back in the fall, I’ll take time off and get a job.” They both had part-time jobs, of course, but he would get a full-time job to ensure they had money for the baby’s expenses. “In a few years, once you’ve finished your degree or the baby’s old enough to go to daycare a few days a week, I can go back to it, but taking a few years off won’t kill me.” He was on a scholarship now, he had to reapply each year, so he simply wouldn’t apply at the end of this year and hope he could get another one when he came back in a few years.

Dís smiled faintly, leaning against Víli. She had protested at first, when he’d told her that he would take time off so that he could work and Dís could finish school, but he’d argued that it would be better this way. She was closer to finishing than he was, it made sense to let her finish her degree and then have him go back and finish his later. There was also the possibility that, by the time Víli planned to go back, they would have gotten back her father’s company, and so she would more than likely work there, which would allow Víli to focus most of his attention on his classes, rather than working.

“I think we can make it work,” Víli said, kissing the top of her head. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother, the baby will love you.” A little dark haired girl trailing after her mother…he would be wrapped around her finger as quickly as he’d been snared the first time. Still, he’d love it just as much if they had a boy, and he suspected that if Dís developed a preference, she would let him know. “Come on, we should pack and leave, or your family is going to think we aren’t coming.”

“We should,” Dís agreed, standing and stretching. “You will be a good father too, Víli.” That, she didn’t doubt. He was so at ease around children, playing with them or taking care of them (as Víli seemed to make friends everywhere and several of his friends had children), that she had no doubt that he would be a fantastic father.

And, if she daydreamed about a small, blonde child toddling after his father…well, that was her business.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Frerin and Bilbo were having a small gift exchange before they both went their separate ways for the holidays. Bilbo would be going home to spend the holidays with his mother, while Frerin would of course be going back home for the extended family holiday that was typical for his family. Both of them were proud of the thought put into their gifts, although they were slightly anxious about how they would be received.

“I’d like to go first, if you don’t mind?” Bilbo asked, smiling when Frerin nodded. He passed over a decent sized box, wrapped in Brave wrapping paper (as Bilbo hadn’t stopped teasing Frerin since he’d admitted that it was one of his favorite movies).

Frerin rolled his eyes but unwrapped his present, opening the box to reveal a book. Curious, he took it out, turning it over in his hands. His eyes widened when he realized what it was. “A first edition of Sherlock Holmes? Bilbo, this is…where did you get this, it’s perfect!”

“My father had a fondness for old books, and he had first editions of all of his favorites. He loved Sherlock Holmes, he’s the one that got me started reading in the first place,” Bilbo admitted. He had asked his mother, even though the book had been left to him, and she had agreed that he could give it to Frerin as long as he thought that the man would treasure it as much as Bungo had. Seeing the near-reverent way that Frerin was carefully turning pages in the book, he didn’t think that was a problem.

“This is too much, much too much,” Frerin murmured, eventually able to tear himself away from the book and carefully setting it down. “But thank you. I don’t know how my gift will compare to this, honestly.” Still, he picked up the box, which had pictures of snowmen on the wrapping, and handed it over to Bilbo.

Bilbo ripped the paper eagerly, he loved giving and getting presents, and opened the box. Frerin had bought an elegant green fountain pen as well as a jar of emerald ink and a journal full of rich, creamy paper that was bound in red leather. “I thought that you could use it to write your book,” Frerin admitted. “I know you want to publish your stories one day, so I thought giving you some nice tools to use to work your magic would be a step in the right direction.”

Bilbo smiled, opening the journal and inhaling the scent of fresh paper and supple leather. “This is perfect, Frerin. You shouldn’t have, really.” He was already itching to get started, the story he’d been turning around in his mind for weeks seemed to be eager to escape onto the paper now. Regretfully, he closed the journal, he didn’t have time to write now, but he would certainly be getting some use out of it tonight.

The two of them settled in for a night of snuggling while watching TV after that, enjoying their last night together for a few weeks. Frerin reflected that Thorin was going to be thoroughly sick of hearing how wonderful Bilbo was by the end of their holiday, but it was just payback considering how many times he’d listened to Thorin mooning over Dwalin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, I really wanted Jewish dwarves and had plans for their holiday to fit with that. However, as I am not Jewish and haven't had time to finish my research about Judaism, I went with a holiday I know. I do plan to do that eventually, however, I just need to research more first.


	9. Chapter 9

“So, are you going home for the holidays?” Dáin asked, looking over at Thranduil. They were in his apartment once again, Dáin stretched out on the couch with his laptop on his lap, while Thranduil was sitting in the armchair, textbook abandoned on his lap as he decided to take a break from studying for the moment. His last exam was tomorrow, and Dáin had to finish editing his paper to turn in before his last exam for the semester, so the two of them had decided to meet up as usual, sit and study or write and generally snark back and forth. Gypsy was currently napping beside Thranduil on the chair, and he would reach down and pet her every so often.

“I am, yes. My father is rather fond of family holidays,” Thranduil admitted, smiling wryly. Oropher had always been much more outgoing than his son had managed, but that had never seemed to bother the older man.

“You’ve never said much about your family. What’s he like, your father? And your mother?” Dáin asked, curious. He knew more about Thranduil than most at the college did, but they had never really discussed family. Granted, a lot of their conversations revolved around Gyspy, schoolwork, and various books or movies, but he couldn’t think of why he didn’t ask this sooner.

“My mother died when I was a child,” Thranduil admitted. He couldn’t miss her, not in the conventional sense, but he could long for her, the woman who he only knew through his father’s memories. He wanted what many others had, a mother to love them and care for them, even though his father had done his best to take care of him and had done well. “I take after my father more, from what I can tell. She had dark hair that she wore long, occasionally with small braids, or flowers braided in it. Her eyes were similar to mine, however, as my father’s eyes are more grey than blue.”

“I’m sorry,” Dáin offered. He knew that he couldn’t understand everything that Thranduil felt, but he couldn’t imagine what it would be like if his mother hadn’t been there for him. His father was wonderful, but he couldn’t imagine growing up without his mother. He had needed to, at various times, but dwelling on that wouldn’t help anything, so he changed the subject slightly. “And your father, what is he like?”

Grateful for the minor reprieve, Thranduil smiled faintly as he thought about his father. “The first thing many notice about my father is his height, or rather, lack thereof. He is slightly over five feet tall, I inherited my mother’s height, apparently. I towered over him by the time I was thirteen, and never have tired of teasing him about it.” At which point Oropher usually retorted that Thranduil had yet to grow too big to be turned over his knee, but Dáin didn’t need to know that. “The next thing most notice when meeting Oropher Greenwood for the first time is his grace. He is an inherently graceful man, I believe he used to dance in his youth. I recall being a child and wanting to master the effortless grace that he had always had in abundance.”

“You’ve managed fairly well,” Dáin said, chuckling. He could imagine a gangly teenaged Thranduil, likely still a bit awkward because of his new height and trying to navigate with his still growing limbs, teasing his father about being taller than him. If Oropher was anything like his own parents, Dáin didn’t doubt that he had a suitable retort ready for his mischievous son. “So, what else?”

“He owns a vineyard, several actually,” Thranduil admitted. “He inherited some of them, but he made the business grow far beyond what it was when he inherited it. I know that, initially, he wished for me to take over for him when he retires, but he has been nothing but supportive of my desire to teach instead. He has said that, if I never wish to take over the business, then he will be able to find another to train for it. I enjoy the fruits of his labor, as it were, but I have little interest in the day to day dealings.”

“You have been waiting to use the ‘fruits of his labor’ pun for quite some time, haven’t you?” Dáin asked, amused. Thranduil’s sense of humor usually tended to be dry, or be paired with his usual biting wit, but there were times when he would be relaxed enough to go for cheap puns and hoary jokes. “But, it’s nice that he’s still supportive of you.”

“I was rather frightened to mention it initially, but he handled it quite well,” Thranduil replied. He wouldn’t admit how terrified he had been, thinking his father would hate him because he didn’t want to take over the family business, and the amount of sheer relief that had swept through him when his father had supported him, helping him to choose a major and ensuring that he was certain that this was the career for him. “What of your family?” Dáin had mentioned various relatives once or twice, but they hadn’t discussed family much.

“My mother was a soldier, she retired two years ago,” Dáin said, pride in his mother evident in his voice and expression. “It was difficult at times, having her gone so often and worrying about her safety, but she was protecting our home and doing what she thought was necessary to keep us safe. I actually wanted to enlist when I turned eighteen.” That hadn’t been possible, however. He had always known that it wouldn’t be, of course, but he had been tempted to try to enlist anyway, just to see what they would say, but his mother had been the one to convince him otherwise.

“She must be very brave,” Thranduil offered. Rather like her son, as he had yet to see anything intimidate Dáin. Of course, it could be because the man was so stubborn, but part of it was likely due to the courage he had likely inherited from his mother. “And your father? Is he in the service as well?”

Dáin shook his head. “No. Da owns his own shop, makes a variety of things out of metal. Bookends, statues, he’s even done several swords, they are a personal favorite. He also takes commissions, and he’s made filing cabinets and such as well. It’s not only him anymore, he has a few employees as well, and he’s just as proud of their work as he is of his own. He’ll take on apprentices now and again, when they need the help, and they’ll often stay on once they’ve learned the tricks of the trade. I have some talent with that sort of thing, but…”

“You wanted to be a teacher instead,” Thranduil finished. It was how he felt as well, after all. He could run his father’s business, he had no doubt of that, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life. “Were your parents accepting of your choice?”

“Da was a little put out, he’d hoped I’d take over for him, but soon enough he was raving about what a good teacher I would be,” Dáin admitted, chuckling. “My cousins teased me relentlessly, but also told me that I would be a fine teacher once I finished college and my student teaching.”

“It must be nice, to be part of such a close family,” Thranduil replied. He had never experienced that, as his Oropher’s parents had died before Thranduil was born, and both his father and mother were only children. He didn’t have any close family to dote on him, it was simply him and his father, as well as his father’s friends from time to time.

“It’s a pain sometimes, everyone in your business and poking and prodding you,” Dáin said honestly. “Sometimes I want my space. But, whenever I need them, they’re always there for me. It makes up for the lack of privacy most of the time. It’s family, it’s always complicated.”

“True,” Thranduil agreed. Even though his family was composed of one blood relation and several family friends, he could understand that.

The two finished their work not long after that, and Thranduil helped Dáin pack what he was taking home, laughing over some of the presents that Dáin had bought for his cousins and their partners. Both agreed to call when they had time over their break, and neither admitted that they would miss this, just their casual friendship, over the break, regardless of how close their families were.


	10. Chapter 10

Bombur was packing up his things when the call came. He was going home now that school was finished for the semester, and he was looking forward to seeing Bofur and Bifur again, and he knew both of them were looking forward to the advantages that came from having a chef (well, almost, since he still had to finish school) in the house for a change. He never minded showing off new recipes he’d learned for Bofur and Bifur, and they were always very appreciative when it came time to eat the results of his demonstrations.

He’d answered the phone expecting to need to tell Bofur that he would be there soon, he just needed to finish packing and catch the train. Instead, he ended up dropping the presents he’d been about to put in his suitcase.

“You’re _where?_ What? How on Earth…? Why did you…? Never mind, how much? I’ll be there soon. Do you want me to call…? Alright, alright, no need to bite my head off, just calm down.”

He scrambled to find his wallet, stuffing it in his pocket with his keys and phone before grabbing his jacket and heading out, making his way to the nearest bus stop. He couldn’t believe this.

A half-hour later, Bombur was standing in the police station, waiting while they went to fetch Nori from the cells. He had to pay bail to get Nori out, and if the man didn’t show up for his court date, Bombur might actually kill him. The money he’d used to bail Nori out was from his savings, started when his great-aunt had died and left him money in her will. He was saving it, and adding to it from his wages, so that he would be able to open his own restaurant someday. Most of the money in the account had been used to get Nori out of jail, but it was worth it. He didn’t know if Dori would have had the money to bail Nori out, and Nori was entirely certain that his brother would leave him there (not that Bombur believed it), so it had been up to him.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Nori said when he saw Bombur. He knew what he had asked of his friend, he knew where Bombur had gotten the money for his bail, and he was feeling something he wasn’t accustomed to feeling. Guilt. He felt guilty that Bombur had needed to delay, or possibly cancel, his holiday plans for this, but more than that, he felt horrible that the money that Bombur had used for him had been saved for Bombur’s future restaurant. It was a lot for Nori to take in, especially as he wasn’t accustomed to feeling guilty about anything anymore.

“We can talk about it later,” Bombur said, nodding towards the door. “Come on, you have papers to pick up about your court dates, and then we’re going back to mine. You’re too skinny, you haven’t been eating enough.”

Nori couldn’t help but chuckle at that, even as he went through all of the procedures that needed to be followed before he could leave. Bombur would always try to feed up his friends if he thought they were too skinny. He was a good man, and Nori thought that he was one of the few who actually deserved what he wanted. He promised himself that he was going to pay back the money Bombur had spent getting him out of jail, although he didn’t breathe a word of it to the jolly cook.

Instead, as they left, the conversation centered around what to have for dinner and whether or not Bombur was still going to go home to see Bifur and Bofur, while Nori denied any wish to visit Dori (he wasn’t going to say that he missed his elder brother, he wasn’t a softy).

* * *

 

“I thought I’d find you out here,” Dwalin said, amused, as he moved to sit on the porch steps beside Thorin, passing him a bottle of root beer. At his boyfriend’s raised eyebrow, Dwalin added, defensively, “Your mother was in the kitchen. You know how she feels about us drinking.” They were both nearly twenty-one, but not quite there yet, and although she would allow them to have a small amount to drink on special occasions, she frowned on them drinking otherwise.

“You would think that you’d grow out of being scared of my mother,” Thorin teased. Dwalin wasn’t exactly scared of her, but he was usually wary of making her angry. Which was a difficult thing to accomplish, since her temperament was more like Frerin’s than Thorin’s or Dís’.

“I’m not scared of your mother, although I believe that your sister’s boyfriend is scared of you,” Dwalin replied, smirking when Thorin grimaced. “He seems like a good man, Thorin, and he’s clearly far gone on Dís.”

“Yes, but he’s the reason that Dís is going to be a mother in several months,” Thorin muttered. He still couldn’t believe it, his grumpy little sister, a mother! He knew she wasn’t the same child that had followed him around, stubbornly refusing when he had tried to get her to go play with someone her own age, but that was what he remembered. The little baby who chewed on his hair and the stubborn toddler who had refused to let her brothers boss her around.

“She’ll be a good one,” Dwalin offered. He could see Dís as a mother, and Víli seemed like he would be a good father. Both clearly loved each other, and, although they were clearly startled still, they both seemed to love their baby already. He thought it was a good match, and Thorin would realize that when he wasn’t panicking. “She had to grow up sometime, Thorin.”

“But why now?” Thorin grumbled, sighing. “She is my sister, Dwalin, I always want to protect her from any pain or heartbreak. How do I know that this man won’t leave once he realizes how much work a baby is? Or what if it turns out that they aren’t good together?” He didn’t want to see Dís alone and pregnant, or as a single parent, heartbroken because someone who had promised her forever had changed his mind.

“You need to trust him, Thorin,” Dwalin replied. “That is all you can do. Trust him, and trust Dís to know what is the best for her. Help them where you can. And,” here Dwalin’s grin turned shark-like, “We threaten him to ensure that he doesn’t even think about breaking Dís’ heart.”

Thorin laughed full-out at that, grinning at his boyfriend. “Yet another reason that I love you. Are you going to be my big scary partner, helping me to terrify my baby sister’s boyfriend?”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Dwalin replied, getting another laugh out of Thorin. He changed the subject after that, talking about the holidays, school, anything that wasn’t Dís, Víli, or their baby. And after awhile they just sat in companionable silence, drinking their root beer and watching the stars. Sometimes, some things were better said without words.


	11. Chapter 11

“I still do not see why I am here,” Thranduil commented, looking around the pet shop with equal parts confusion and amusement. They had no classes that day, and Dáin wasn’t working, so when he had received a text from Dáin asking him to come to his apartment, Thranduil had assumed that the man simply wanted to watch movies together and enjoy their day off. The holidays were officially over now and with school back in full swing, they both could use the small break their movie nights afforded them. Instead, he had been dragged out of the apartment before he could even take his coat off and driven to the nearest pet store.

“Because, Gypsy gets lonely when I’m working or in class,” Dáin said simply, already making his way through the store, back to where he knew the guinea pigs were. “So, I’m getting her a companion. Another girl, however, because I don’t want to risk having a whole bunch of baby guinea pigs running around the apartment. You’re here to help me pick out one, especially since you said your landlord is so strict that you can’t even have a fish. So, live vicariously and help me pick out a friend for my guinea pig.”

“There are times when I wonder if you are in your right mind. Then I realize that I am following you, for good or ill, and wonder what it says about me,” Thranduil murmured, but he was examining the guinea pig’s enclosure with interest. He didn’t understand why Dáin was so worried about his guinea pig being lonely, but he did think that Gypsy was soft and stroking her fur or ‘cuddling’, as Dáin teasingly called it, was enjoyable. He would prefer a bigger pet to interact with, but as neither of their homes would support that, guinea pigs would suffice.

“Well, check them out, pick one, and we’ll see if Gypsy likes her,” Dáin replied. He thought it would be okay, he’d done a lot of reading about how to introduce a new guinea pig and, really, Gypsy rarely used her cage unless she was sleeping. Thranduil had been amused to discover that Gypsy didn’t sleep in her cage all that much, and that Dáin had gotten a pillow for her to sleep on. And that the guinea pig’s name was written in glitter on said pillow.

Still, Dáin was his friend and so Thranduil looked at all of the guinea pigs in the enclosure, eventually withdrawing a larger one, blonde and with longer fur than Gypsy had. “I have no idea if this is a male or a female,” he admitted. “But it seems like they would be a suitable companion for Gypsy.”

Dáin took the guinea pig from Thranduil, pressing on it’s lower stomach like Grace had showed him last time. “I think it’s a girl,” he offered. “But, I looked up a small animal vet, just in case something happened to Gypsy, and we could always take it there.” After he bought it, which meant that he’d have to return it if it was a boy.

“You don’t want little Gypsys running around your apartment?” Thranduil asked, smirking, as he and Dáin talked to a salesperson and headed up to pay for the guinea pig, getting more food for Gypsy while they were here, since he was running low. “No tiny, odd-looking creatures that eventually look like Gypsy or her mate?” He knew exactly why Dáin didn’t want a male, they would reproduce far too quickly, but it was still entirely amusing to him and he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to tease Dáin.

“Yeah, do you want to be taking care of all of them?” Dáin asked, paying and taking the carrying case from the salesperson once he’d paid. “Because I can ask them to put this girl back and bring on one they think is a boy in that case.” He could handle aspects of caring for a normal pig, he’d taken care of Rosie since she was a few hours old, but guinea pigs still mystified him at times, hence why they were going to the vet.

“Point taken,” Thranduil replied, and consented to hold the new guinea pig while Dáin drove. He may not be the most compassionate man, but even he wouldn’t leave such a small creature to bounce around in the back seat, particularly as there was no real way to buckle it in without covering up the air holes. “What are you going to name this one?” He didn’t know why Dáin had named the first one Gypsy, so he couldn’t guess what Dáin would choose for this one.

“I don’t know what to name this one,” Dáin admitted. He’d named Rosie because he thought she was the same color as the roses his mother liked. He’d chosen Gypsy on a whim, simply because it seemed to fit her. He didn’t know what would fit this new one, nothing was coming to him. “Do you have a suggestion?” When in doubt, ask someone. Dís had always enjoyed helping him name things, and he had fond memories of many ‘serious’ conversations that they had as small children, trying to decide on the perfect name for one of their new toys. Sometimes it would take the two of them days of consulting with each other before they decided on the perfect name for the doll, stuffed animal, or whatever else they were trying to name.

“I think she is the same color as a Scrabble tile, so why not call her Scrabble?” Thranduil asked. The guinea pig was a similar color of light brown to the game tiles, and he had always been fond of the game. He had discovered a new fondness for it when playing with Dáin, as the other man had a good vocabulary, but tended to complain whenever he lost a round. He was never a sore loser, however, nor an obnoxious winner, so the complaints and muttered comments were amusing more than anything.

“Hm,” Dáin murmured, not saying anything else on the subject until they pulled in at the vet’s. When the nurse asked for the guinea pig’s name for the file, however, Dáin told her that it’s name was Scrabble, and pretended that he didn’t notice the surprised but pleased look that Thranduil gave him.


	12. Chapter 12

“I’m worried about him.”

Those were the first words that Dori had said to him, beyond their interaction while he ordered tea, for the past week. Balin had known immediately that something was wrong with the other man, of course, but Dori had been unwilling to discuss it and he hadn’t wanted to press. He did make sure that Dori knew that he was available to talk, but forcing the issue wouldn’t do anything. So, he kept up his usual routine, ordering loose leaf tea as well as a cup to drink and sitting with Dori. The usual chatter was gone, however, until today.

“Nori runs off all of the time, he has from the time he was old enough to go off on his own,” Dori admitted, burying his head in his hands. “But he always finds way to send word that he is fine. Sometimes it will be a postcard, with his initials and not much else, other times he will send home a little present for Mother or for me. Sometimes he’ll write letters as well. But he’s never just…been completely silent for this long, and I am worried about him. He could be injured, in jail…he could have been killed and is lying in a morgue as a John Doe because no one knows him wherever he is.”

Balin debated the merits of telling Dori that he likely would be notified if Nori was dead, as there were many ways to identify a corpse, but he knew that wouldn’t help. Instead, he rubbed Dori’s back gently. “Nori will be fine. He gets himself into and out of more trouble in the space of a week than most men find in their entire lives, but he will be fine. They haven’t yet found a match for him, and I doubt they ever will. He’s probably just roved further away than usual, and it’s taking longer for his letters to find you.”

“He hasn’t contacted us since before the holidays,” Dori admitted. “I tried the numbers that he left behind, and each was a dead end. I haven’t heard from him since the beginning of December, and I am fairly worried now. Mother believes that he will be fine, and I agree with her when we talk about it because she can’t be stressed right now, especially as she and the baby are just getting a little better…”

“Dori, trust your mother,” Balin said, still rubbing his back soothingly. “I know you fuss over everyone you care about, and that you worry about Nori as some of his dealings are…less than legal, but I do not believe that he is in any danger. Nori is a resourceful lad, he would have managed to send word to you if he was in any danger.” Because, even as Nori would complain about Dori’s mothering tendencies, Balin thought that Nori was intelligent enough to realize that Dori would always be there for him and help him out of any trouble he managed to get into.

“You may be right,” Dori acknowledged, sitting up straight and smoothing his hair back in place, straightening his shirt. He felt better, marginally, after being able to unburden himself even that small amount, and until there was news, there really wasn’t much more that he could do. He needed to simply focus on the shop, his mother, and perhaps the man across from him. He would still worry, of course, but he needed to trust Nori.

Balin smiled when he noticed Dori relaxing, moving back to his seat and settling in. He diplomatically changed the subject to the new assistant that Dori had hired to help him as his mother wasn’t allowed to do much at present. The employee, from what he had gathered, was hopeless, and the rest of Dori’s break was spent ranting about incompetent employees. Still, the defeated resignation that had been in Dori’s eyes for the past week was gone, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

 

Bombur arrived home from his last class to find Nori waiting with take out. It happened sometimes, whenever Nori suspected that he was having a bad day. The other man couldn’t cook much of anything, so he would go out and get food so that Bombur didn’t have to cook on the days when he thought that the other man would be upset when he got back to the apartment. It was a little thing, especially considering that Bombur had kept his mouth shut even when Dori had called him, but it was a start. Nori hated having debts, and even if Bombur didn’t see it that way, Nori did and he was going to find a way to repay it.

“Thanks,” Bombur said, when he noticed the food. He set his bag down, taking the plate Nori handed to him and going to sit down. “I guess the bribe means that you didn’t talk to your brother?” They had been arguing about this for the past few days. Nori didn’t want to talk to Dori or their mother right now, because he didn’t want them to know that he had been in jail and was still on probation. He didn’t plan to talk to either of them at all until he was completely free and could go and visit them without worrying about them finding out what had happened and scolding him. Bombur, unsurprisingly, disagreed with him. He thought that Nori should tell Dori and their mother what had happened, or at the very least send them a letter to let them know he was okay.

“I don’t want them to know, Bom,” Nori replied, leaning back against the counter. The larger man wasn’t able to be bribed, at least not on things that he considered important. Nori added that bit of information to his mental index before turning his attention back to Bombur. “I don’t need Dori saying ‘I told you so’ half a dozen times, or our ma fretting. I don’t want them to know.”

“They’re your family, Nori, and they care about you. Not about saying ‘I told you so’ or having you around to fret over, they care about _you_. I think you should let them know that you’re alright, you’ve never gone this long without talking to them before.” And Bombur knew that they would worry about Nori if the man kept avoiding them. Bombur would be hurt if Bofur had done something like that to him, so he could imagine how Dori felt.

“You’re never going to give up, are you?” Nori asked, sighing. Bombur was like a bulldog with a bone. Once he’d clamped down, there was no prying him away. “Fine, I’ll send a postcard or something so they know I’m alive, but I’m not telling them anything else.” At least not yet. He might tell them once he’d found a new job, one that was legal for a change. He already had a few ideas on that front, it would just take time to implement. For now though, he pushed away from the counter and moved over to the table. He was going to get something to eat before Bombur stole all the egg rolls again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are descriptions of an accident in this scene. It is Dain retelling a past event, and it's not very graphic, but I wanted to put the warning here for anyone who needed it. I'd been planning on putting this chapter in earlier, or working it in somehow earlier, but it never seemed to be the right time.

A few months passed, and while studying for their final exams, Dáin and Thranduil were sitting in Dáin’s apartment. Scrabble and Gypsy were getting along well, and were currently laying on their separate pillows, Gypsy by Dáin and Scrabble by Thranduil, as they had learned that both men would absentmindedly pet them while studying, only taking their hand away to turn a page or take a sip of their drinks before going back to stroking, and both guinea pigs lapped up the attention. It was a fairly peaceful setting, one that had happened any number of times after they had become friends, sometimes at Dáin’s home and other’s at Thranduil’s, and both were comfortable together.

Dáin was taking a break from going over his math notes (trying to memorize all of those formulas was going to kill him, he knew it), and he noticed Thranduil looking at him before quickly cutting his eyes away. Since it was the third time in the space of ten minutes that he had done so, Dáin sighed and looked over at him. “Ask,” he said bluntly. He wasn’t blind nor was he an idiot, he knew what Thranduil wanted to ask but wasn’t because of whatever social etiquette he was raised on.

“What happened?” Thranduil asked simply, gesturing to Dáin’s leg. It hadn’t been immediately noticeable, certainly nothing that he had noticed during the first time they had met, but they had been friends for months by this point and had spent a fair amount of time together. He had tact, however, and as Dáin had never mentioned an impairment, Thranduil had never asked about it. He was curious, but he hadn’t wanted to risk their odd relationship and thus hadn’t asked before. Now, given permission, he had asked before he made the conscious decision to do so.

“I had an accident, when I was a kid,” Dáin said calmly. He had been expecting this, and he had prepared for it. At least Thranduil hadn’t badgered him about it immediately, like some people he met. Anything that made you different seemed to be an excuse for strangers to talk to you, and he had snapped at more than one of them when he was younger. He wasn’t some freak show to be ogled at. As he’d gotten older and gotten a better handle on his temper, he usually settled for ignoring them or stating bluntly that it was none of their business.

Thranduil still was curious, but he wasn’t going to push. If Dáin wanted to share what had happened, then he could, of course, but he wasn’t going to prod at something that wasn’t his business. Before, perhaps, he would have, but he had learned a bit of…he wasn’t entirely sure what the correct word would be. Sympathy? Humanity? He would have never cared if he offended anyone before Dáin, but he found himself strangely reluctant to offend his friend. And, a fairly sobering thought, he didn’t want to hurt Dáin, whether accidentally or otherwise.

“When I was ten, we had this big family picnic,” Dáin continued, shaking his head. “My family, my cousins and aunts and uncles all drove together, somehow we crammed everything and everyone into two cars and drove to where the picnic was being held. Everyone was there, it was in this huge field because there honestly wasn’t enough room anywhere else for us all. There hadn’t been a gathering like that since I was born, they did it once every ten years. They still do, of course, that didn’t stop. They just changed the venue for the next one.”

Dáin shook his head, taking a drink of his water before continuing. “My cousins and I decided to play hide and seek about halfway through the reunion, and since the field was all flat, Frerin, Dís, and I all ran into the forest nearby. Frerin managed to scale a tree, but Dís and I were still too short, so we just kept running. We didn’t see that it ended in this steep drop off until we were too close to stop. I grabbed Dís and she held onto me…she ended up breaking a rib and getting a concussion when she hit her head on a rock while we were tumbling down, but that was it. She has a faint scar near her hairline from the cut, but otherwise you’d never know. I’m glad.”

“Glad?” Thranduil asked, confused. That word seemed entirely out of place in this story.

“Glad,” Dáin agreed. “I took the brunt of the landing. I had the worst of it. Dís doesn’t have any lasting injuries, although the doctors were worried, they’d thought her migraines might get worse.” Dís had gotten chronic migraines since they were children, and although sometimes the medicine didn’t help and she just had to wait until it finally ended, it didn’t seem like their fall had made them worse. “She felt guilty about it for a long time, she was out of the hospital before I was, but eventually we came to an understanding about it.”

Thranduil nodded, silent for a few moments before asking, “How were you found?”

“Well, at first, no one knew we were gone. They all thought we were playing. But then Thorin and Frerin couldn’t find us, and after about an hour, according to them, they went back to get help. My parents and theirs started looking, the rest of the family splitting up as well. I’d blacked out from the pain when I landed, but I’d woken up not long before they started looking. I was sobbing, it was the most painful experience I’d ever had, and I just wanted my parents, wanted the pain to stop. Dís was still out cold too, so I was worried about her. I heard them calling for us after a few minutes, though, and shouted for help. Mum got to us first, I’ll never forget the look on her face…”

Dáin sighed, shaking his head. “Well, they called an ambulance, got us both to the hospital. They had to amputate, there was nothing they could do, so I was in the hospital for a long time. Mum and Dad were there every day, of course, and so were my aunt, uncle, and cousins, even after Dís was discharged. I couldn’t get used to it, I was feeling horrible and even my parents’ promises to help me were really doing much for my mood. So one day, when Thorin was visiting by himself while his parents and siblings were down in the gift shop picking out something for me and my parents were getting something to eat, he asked me if he should start calling me Ironfoot instead of Ironhill.” Dáin chuckled, shaking his head. “Everyone was surprised to walk in and hear me laughing. The name stuck, and most of my friends and family will call me Dáin Ironfoot to this day. Thorin’s right pleased with himself.”

Thranduil smiled faintly at the image that painted, then shook his head. “You are a strong man.” He couldn’t imagine what it had been like to go through that. And regardless of what had happened to him, he was _glad_ that he had been the only one who was majorly hurt…Dáin was certainly a unique individual.

By unspoken agreement, the two let the conversation end there. Perhaps another time they would discuss it more, but for now they went back to their studying. The exams wouldn’t go away just because they had found something more interesting to discuss, after all.


	14. Chapter 14

“Why are we doing this?” Thranduil asked, looking around the store that he had been dragged to. Baby grows, bottles, diapers, and everything else one would need for an infant surrounded him.

“Because, Dís conned me into going because she loves the baked goods from the café, and I’m dragging you along because I’ll need company and someone to make bets with as to when Dís and Thorin will start squabbling and how long it will take for Frerin and Víli to calm them both down,” Dáin replied, rifling through the various outfits. He had already ordered a maternity shirt for Dís that was Harry Potter themed that he knew she’d love, now he wanted to find a few baby outfits. They’d pick up diapers and wipes too, and that should be a good present.

Thranduil shook his head but obligingly started helping Dáin search. After a few minutes, he held up a white outfit with a pattern on it. There was a pick on it, and it said ‘Future Geologist, Like My Daddy’ on it. “What about this one? Didn’t you say that your cousin’s partner is a geologist, or studying to be?”

“Víli, and yeah, he is,” Dáin agreed. “He’ll get a kick out of that. What about this?” He held up a black outfit that had a rock on it, that had a face and arms. It was clearly ‘rocking out’ (and Dáin grinned at the pun as he thought it), and had the words ‘Geology Rocks’ accompanying it.

“That pun is beneath you,” Thranduil said, rolling his eyes, but Dáin ignored him and threw it in their basket. Víli would get a kick out of it, even if Dís would complain about how corny the joke was. She’d laugh about it in private, however, and he knew she’d dress the baby in it at least once.

Not long after, shopping done and back at Dáin’s to wrap the presents before the shower, Thranduil was tsking over Dáin’s wrapping abilities.

“Here, allow me,” the blonde replied, rolling his eyes and taking the wrapping paper and boxes from Dáin and beginning to quickly and neatly wrap the gifts. “Honestly, who taught you to wrap gifts? You are appalling.”

“There is a reason why I stick everything in gift bags and have done with it,” Dáin replied, snorting. “Crafting things I can do. Wrapping them is an entirely different matter.”

Thranduil shook his head, quickly inserting a Harry Potter baby outfit that he had bought without Dáin’s knowledge (that said ‘My parents are muggles but I’m coping’) into the box before neatly wrapping it. He had been taught to never go to a party without bringing a present, or a hostess gift if it wasn’t that sort of party, and despite Dáin’s assurances that Dís wouldn’t expect anything from him, he wished to make a good impression on Dáin’s family. After all, Dáin was very close to his family, particularly his cousins, and if he intended to do something about his growing attraction to Dáin, he would need the family’s approval, or at least consent.

Dáin shook his head, in the dark about Thranduil’s motives and simply believing it was his perfectionist tendencies coming to the fore. Still, the phrase ‘perfectionist git’ was thought with more fondness than usual. Perhaps, if Thranduil didn’t run screaming after meeting his family, he could ask the man about going out for a drink afterwards. But then, maybe he was putting the cart before the horse. Frerin was generally counted on to be sociable, but he had a feeling that Thranduil and Thorin would clash.

* * *

 

Dáin’s predictions had, regrettably, been proven true.

Things had been going well, Dís had loved the maternity shirt, the rest of the presents being sat on a table along with the ones from everyone else to be opened later, and Víli had introduced him to a few friends of his, one who was apparently in culinary school and had done most of the cooking for the party. Dáin had gone back to help carry the food out, at his cousin’s request, and had left Thranduil alone at their table. When he came back out, Thranduil and Thorin were arguing, standing opposite each other and glaring daggers.

“Which one do you want?” Frerin asked, coming up beside Dáin. “Because Dís looks ready to throttle them both, so we’ll need to act fast.” Glancing over at his cousin, Dáin could agree that Frerin was right. She looked furious that they were causing a scene.

“I’ll handle Thranduil and leave Thorin to you,” Dáin replied, since Thorin was bull-headed at the best of times and Frerin could usually get through to him where others couldn’t. “Try to have Dwalin keep him away from Thranduil for the rest of the party.”

With that parting bit of wisdom, Dáin headed over to his friend, grabbing the blonde’s arm and simply tugging him along with him. Thranduil seemed equal parts confused, irritated, and sheepish, although the latter would be impossible to see unless you knew him, but Dáin ignored the look as well as the sputtering as he towed Thranduil outside. Once they were both outside, he released Thranduil, folding his arms over his chest and looking up at the taller man. “What the hell was that? I leave you alone for five minutes, and you and Thorin are at each other’s throats.”

“He came to me and bothered me, I merely responded in kind,” Thranduil replied, sheepishness fading now that they were outside, and thus had no danger of making a scene. “He was intolerably rude. Simply because I admitted to having thought about asking you to dinner one night, he believed that I was going to use you and then leave once I became bored. The nerve of that…that…swine!” Granted, in the past he had done exactly that, taking partners and discarding them swiftly once he tired of them, but there had never been any attachment on his part to any of them. It was different with Dáin.

“Don’t think you admitting you have feelings for me is going to get you out of this,” Dáin said, after a moment of staring at the blonde man in surprise. “I care about you too, daft man, but you can’t go around picking fights with my cousins or they will never like you. Once they do like you, then you can argue with them as much as you please.” Their family always loved a good debate, after all. “Now, you’re going back in there, apologizing to Thorin, and then you’re going to sit with me and have nothing to do with him for the rest of the party.”

Thranduil, rather shocked that he had basically stated his affections and had them reciprocated, in the middle of an argument no less, spoke without thinking. “I will, yes.” Then, realizing what he had agreed to, he scowled. “But Thorin will apologize to me first, as he started this fiasco.”

Dáin sighed but decided to take what he could get. After all, if they both refused to apologize until the other did, he would leave them to Dís.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: Do you think I should add in Legolas and Dain's son Thorin at some point, or no?


End file.
